Thinking Of You Friend Poems Novels & Stories

Her love — a theatre, her soul — a stage, and I, the fool who thought it was friendship. Now I sip my tea with quiet grace, for I have learned — not all enemies wear frowns. Some wear my perfume, and borrow my smile. Such is the life of a fake friend. Beware!

“Hey In the quiet moments of the day, my thoughts often drift to you. Your presence in my life, though hidden, fills my heart with joy and warmth. Your grace, intelligence, and kindness captivate me in ways I never thought possible. The way your eyes sparkle with life and your smile lights up the room is a sight I cherish from afar.

Freya Throughout the drive back home, my mind was blank. I intentionally forced myself not to think. I know how carried away I get when my mind is shuffling through thoughts. I almost drove myself into an accident when I was going earlier. I’m not going to do that to myself again this time. Kill myself over a man who doesn’t give a f*ck about me and busy screwing my best friend? Best friend? Really? How could you still be calling that back-biting b*tch ass wh*re your best friend? - a thought rose in my head.

My life has changed. You are the girl of my dreams. Since you came into my life, you changed everything. I cannot stop thinking about you. My life has been full of happiness and smile. You have made my days brighter and nights better. What you have given me makes me feel great. You are the reason I always smile, as you are always in my thoughts. You are my best friend. You make my heart skip a beat every time I see you because I adore you so much.

She didn’t have the same insecurities as most women. “Of course, I mean it.” Henni said, “Look, you explained it to me last night. I think I read the in-between the lines on how they work. Though god knows I don’t understand it, I do see it. I think as long as you don’t hide anything from the light, our friendship won’t suffer. I just won’t be willingly spending any time with them. I really don’t like them.”

Her classmates already went on their way. “You really don’t have any friends, do you?” the librarian asked her. “I do,” she said. But the meaning behind those words is different from what her questioner thinks of. For her, her cards and chess are enough. As the poem, she chose said, 'Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.' She portrays friends as somewhat loud and messy and can only give her an unorganized relationship. -0-0-0- Jarren’s Pov

"Because you're my friend, remember?" The word friend echoes through the room like a bell tolling, louder than it should, slicing through the comfortable quiet with a precision that draws every eye to our private drama. Even the fire seems to hush behind us, its cheerful crackle dimmed by the weight she pours into that single syllable. "This is what friends do for each other." I inhale sharply, my throat thickening around a response that refuses to come, the words tangling together like fishing line left too long in a drawer.

Can't we be friends? - Do you have a jealous boyfriend? I let out a laugh and fiddled with my reading glasses. - No. I'm not the type to date a lot. - Then let me be close. I want to be your friend. - Stephen smiled. - Do you? - Of course I do. - But you already have a lot of friends. What will they think when they see me with you? - I don't care about that. Someone taught me that only what we think about ourselves is really worthwhile.

"Fine, you are such a killjoy, you know, buddy. OK, so the real reason for being here is that my sister is in the central library and I have a meeting in half an hour, so I was thinking......... "You were thinking umm hmm, well that's new. Here I was thinking that you lost your ability of thinking." I replied, amused at him. "so, what is it you were thinking anyway?" I was thinking... if maybe you could go out in your lunchtime drive around the city to free up your mind and then as being my only best friend pickmysisterfromthecenterallibrary also ". the last sentence was fast played, but I caught it. I gave him (are you kidding, look)

What a waste of time and energy. "So, what do you think, Hendrix? Do you think she'll like it?" His friend asked, excited but nervous eyes staring at him. The boy sucked his drink from his straw, blinking apathetically. "Come on, Hendrix, help a brother out here! I need her to like my poem, I need her to think I'm the most sexy and silver-tongued, charming juvenile she has ever met. My heart and sex life depend on it!" He rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. He's always doing this. It was one of the reasons he found it ridiculous.